


Nights like This

by Aautumnstyles



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluffy as hell, M/M, Shameless Smut, Sleepy Sex, sorrynotsorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aautumnstyles/pseuds/Aautumnstyles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nights are charged with something. He doesn't know exactly why, or with what, but one thing Harry knows for certain; He loves Louis. </p>
<p>Or just one of many nights, during the lovers' hour, in the Stylinson residence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nights like This

**Author's Note:**

> You can never get enough fluffy, shameless Larry-smut, I guess. I'm a sucker for these kind of stories, so I gave it a shot.

Harry doesn’t know why he wakes, but he does. He wakes. Slowly. Gradually. Not quite fully. His head is swimming in sleep, and by a tiny squinting of his eyes he half-way fathoms that it’s the middle of the night and the moon is shining through their window. His eyes slip closed again, but Harry does not fall back to sleep.   
There is a strange kind of electricity in the air, and Harry twists his body around, without jostling the strong arms around him. Reaches out blindly to touch Louis’s face. He knows it’s lit by the moon and that Louis looks beautiful, soft, and pliant. Knows his eyes are a stunning blue behind his closed eyelids. Harry *knows*, without ever opening his eyes. His fingertips gently graze down Louis’ jaw and the boy sighs – leans into the touch, and oh – he’s awake as well.   
As soon as Harry realises, he drags his fingers further down the warm, smooth skin. Over a delicate chin, down the side of his neck, over his defined collarbones. Harry pauses there, leaving light, feathery touches. The electricity grows stronger. Unmistakable. There is something else at work – Harry thinks – something beyond both of them. Something that pulls Harry forward. Clears his mind up so that he can latch his lips onto that terribly silky skin beneath Louis jawline. He feels more than hears the sound escaping Louis’ throat, then. And *oh*, it isn’t electricity, after all. It’s fire. Burning fire, inside his veins, in his fingertips, in his lips, dancing on his tongue.   
Louis’ breath is staggered by now, and he seems to be willing his hands to obey his mind, as he slowly – but determinedly – lifts them to tangle them in Harry’s messy curls. Makes them slide up on each side of his face and coax it up so their lips attach, finally. Harry’s breath wooshes out of him and he slips his tongue past Louis’ lips.   
The kiss is firm, smooth and agonizingly slow. Their tongues and lips moving languidly against each other until Harry knows they should pause for breath, but doesn’t, and this all kind of feels like a dream, but it *isn’t* and that’s sort of fantastic. Harry pulls back a second to look Louis over. And fuck – crystal blue eyes are staring back at him.   
He was right about Louis looking beautiful in the moonlight. Harry’s heart thumps unevenly in his chest, and he doesn’t know how to handle the emotion that pushes against his chest from the inside. Has never known how to tame it – the crushing love he fees. 

«Lou…»  
His voice is raspy with sleep, even more slow than it usually is. Louis doesn’t reply, just pulls Harry into another searing kiss. It’s so *good*. So good it’s numbing. Only Louis can kiss Harry this way. Only Louis can make Harry moan brokenly against his mouth like he is doing now.   
Louis is properly awake now. Harry can tell by the way he doubles his efforts and pushes Harry down into the matress and settles comfortably on top of him. Can totally tell by the way Louis tugs on his curls just like that to make Harry groan in pleasure. His hips pushes up on their own accord. Louis hisses into his mouth at the sudden friction and he pulls back a moment. They are both breathing hard and fast. 

«Love you…Love you so fucking - much…» Harry whispers, and grinds up again. Louis whimpers and sucks on Harry’s lower lip. Harry’s head is spinning with arousal, and Louis’ hoarse voice rings in his ears: 

«I’ve never loved you any more than I do…right this second….and I’ll never love you any less than I do, right this second…» 

And Harry moans and sobs all at once. His throat thickens and tears erup, and just *fuck*, because Louis *always* does this. It’s like he absorbs all the wise, beautiful phrases, and stores them inside for moments like these, moments when Harry needs them. For when he wants Harry to understand, truly. Either way, Louis pulls it out of the bag every time and it makes Harry breathless. Makes him weak in the knees – even now, when he’s bloody lying down. Harry can’t respond. Not when he’s so turned on and so overwhelmed, and so, *so* gone for this boy, all at once.   
He doesn’t need to say anything, though, ‘cause Louis *knows*. Louis does this on purpose. Harry moans loudly when warm hands grasp his hips. Warm lips are probing the skin on his neck. He pushes up yet again, with a needy whine that Louis might tease him about later, but for now it has the desired effect, and Louis finally grinds down to meet Harry’s hips. And *yes* that is fucking fantastic. 

«Moremoremore...» Louis stutters, and Harry gasps. 

«Yeah, *uhh*…-»

They rut lazily against eachother until Harry’s toes are curling, and Louis hands are shaking. Until Harry’s back is arching and Louis stutters out a weak «*Oh*, *God*, *Harry*…» 

Harry flips them over swiftly, hearing Louis’ suprised inntake of breath, and then sucks a purple mark to his neck, smack on his sweet spot, the spot only Harry knows where is. (Right beneath his ear, must know.) Louis screeches – he fucking screeches- and the sound goes right to Harry’s groin. He whispers a muted ‘fuck’ under his breath. 

Harry grinds down harder and Louis hands fly up to tangle in his hair, along with an animalistic growl that settles deep in his throat. It sounds much like a plea. 

«What do you - *fuck* - what do you want…?» Harry whisperes, never letting up on the steady rythm of their hips.   
Louis looks obscene beneath him. Mouth redbitten and swollen from kisses, pupils blown so wide you can barely make out the blue anymore, flushed cheeks, hair an artfull mess, and body covered in a thin layer of sweat that Harry really just wants to lick off. 

«I…want…I want – you…jesus. Please, H, pleasepleaseplease-»   
He’s rambling now. Harry basks in his incoherency. Incoherent is not a word that really ever is fitting to describe Louis William Tomlinson. And he only ever gets like this with Harry. Harry is the only one who has ever known just exactly how to make Louis come apart at the seams. As he now makes Louis even more desperate, a rather dirty idea comes to mind and Harry chuckles, nods to Louis, and slowly, *slowly* trails down his neck, licks down his chest, and licks a nipple into his mouth. He worries the hardened flesh sharply. Louis makes a choked, desperate noise, and squirms under Harry.   
Harry proceeds to kiss down Louis’ torso, and stops to pay special attention to the sharp jutt of his hipbone. His hands skit down to grasp the tops of Louis’ thigs, fingers playing around the area, so close to where Louis wants them, and that is when Louis just about loses it. 

«Quit teasing, H…please…I’m-»

«You love it, don’t you?...Love being teased until you can’t hold on…» 

Louis whines high in his throat and nods, pushing his hips up, begging, begging, begging. 

«I do-Oh, *fuck*-»

He is cut off by Harry’s awfully skilled tongue licking a fat stripe up the underside of his dick. Louis’ head falls back against the pillow as dirty moans slip through his lips. Harry teases the tip, digging his tongue into the slit, before actually enveloping Louis in the smooth heat of his mouth.   
Harry is skilled with his mouth, and relaxes his throat to take Louis all the way in. Louis swears loudly. Harry keeps at it for a moment, focusing on the things making Louis respond the way he wants him to. He swirls his tongue up the underside, along the single vein there, and lets Louis hit the back of his throat. Uses his hands to gently massage his lower stomach, releasing the tention there. Suddenly Louis legs are shaking and his hands firmy grasps Harry’s curly fringe that’s flopping down in his eyes. 

«Fuck, Harry, I’m close – I’m – *fuckfuckfuck*, *stop*!» Louis urges, and Harry pulls off to behold the gorgeous sight of Louis above him. 

«shh, it’s okay, babe-» he says and swirls his tongue around the tip, keeping his eyes locked on Louis’ face as his jaw goes slack and his eyes roll back. 

«Don’t wanna- *Uhh*... come like this, though…wanna feel you *oh god*…» 

Harry sucks teasingly at the head, pulling an obnoxious moan from his boyfriend. 

«you can come, Lou. Gonna make you come twice, yeah?» 

Louis all but shouts at Harry’s words, hands scrambling to fist in the sheets. 

«yeah….yeah…*fuck* you’re good…you’re so good…» Louis rambles. 

Harry wraps his hand around him and pumps slowly a few times, watching Louis gasp and shudder, before sucking him back into his mouth, moving with intention now, stroking the part he can’t take into his mouth with his hand. Louis moans desperately, his whole body is trembling so hard Harry’s sure his teeth are rattling. And when Harry hollows his cheeks, relaxes his throat until Louis is hitting the very back of it, and moans around him, Louis wails in a way Harry’s *never* heard him do before. His back curves, his body snaps outwards, and his head is thrown back as his orgasm hits him hard and fast. He shoots down Harry’s throat, and Harry swallows it easily, easing Louis through the waves of his high.   
Harry pulls off him and his own moan blends with Louis’ when he looks Louis over.   
He’s still shaking, eyes trained on Harry’s face, eyes glazed over in pleasure, eyelashes wet with tears, jaw slack. Harry just wants to devour him.   
He surges down to give him an openmouthed kiss that has Louis wrapping his shaky legs around Harry’s back to pull him down onto his body. Harry kisses him until Louis collects himself again.   
Harry would think that Louis is worn out, exhausted, about ready to og to sleep after a release like he just had – but he’s soon to discover he’s wrong. Their kisses grow more and more heated again, and Harry is amazed when Louis says «Fuck…Need you. Need you *now*.» 

«Yeah?» Harry groans. 

«*Yesyesyes*,» Louis is moaning again, and he’s also hard, and that should be impossible, but somehow isn’t. Harry wildly thinks he might get off on this alone – the way Louis is so desperate, that is. Seriously, he probably could come just from the sounds Louis is capable of making. Harry scrabmles to reach into the bedsidedrawer, with no help from Louis who just sucks hungrily at his neck and skits his hand down to palm Harry’s painfully hard member. 

«Fuck, Lou…» he whimpers and skillfully uncaps the thing of lube. He slicks two fingers up and swiftly traces down to probe at Louis entrance. 

«Hurry, H, c’mon, I can take it…» Louis groans, and pushes at Harry’s wrist so his one finger slides in to the knuckle. Harry moans and obliges, stretching Louis out as fast as possible without hurting him. Pretty soon he can slide in a second finger, scissoring them, making Louis sob against his skin. When he pushes in a third, he thrusts them carefully in and out, before curling them on the thrust in, and Louis yells out, his whole body jerking forward. 

«*Therethere*, right there -!» He drawls and claws at Harry’s shoulder. Harry crooks his fingers like *so* again and Louis hiccups, moans so loud Harry worries about the neighbours waking up. 

«*Fuck*, I’m good, I’m good, fuck me, *pleasepleaseplease*…» 

Harry, having been so hard for so long, grits his teeth as he slicks himself up, squeezing tightly at the base just to relieve some preassure so he’ll last more than three seconds through this. Then he lines up and with a smooth roll of hips he sinks all the way in. Louis heat envelop him and his mind whites out. 

«*Oh*, so tight, Lou…» He sobs, and Louis’ hips snap up to meet his thrust half way. 

«Harder…» Louis mewls, and Harry pins his hands above his head, licks into his mouth just as he thrusts harder into him. Louis tongue is licking insistantly against his own, and everyhing is just blurry pleasure. Harry’s body is catching fire. And he doesn’t want it to ever end. 

«*ah* I love you, I-*oh fuck*, I love you so much…» Harry’s words run together and is broken by loud moans pushing out of his ribcage. 

«Love you...m-more-god, *right* there, H, *oh fucK* I’m not gonna last-»  
Louis clenches tight around Harry when he changes his angle and pummles right into his prostate with every thrust. The yells of pleasure echo off the walls, and Harry whimpers because *fuck* he’s *close*. 

On a particularily hard thrust, Louis’ eyes fly open and a dry sob escapes him, he looks frantically to catch Harry’s eyes. Harry kisses him again, again, again...a familliar heat spreading in his gut. They’re really not even kissing anymore, so much as panting against eachother’s mouths. 

«Fuck, Haz -! Don’t stop, *please* don’t stop, I’m gonna-» 

Harry nods frantically, he’s gonna come too, he can feel it *right there* – 

«Shh, I won’t, I won’t – I’m…*fuck* I’m gonna come.» He says urgently. 

«Yeahyeahyeah, me too, c’mon love» Louis moans and Harry feels the heat explode within him and feels Louis’ inside spasm around him, and he’s coming, and they’re both coming, and clutching eachother tight, and Harry can’t breathe with it. He’s positive that the way Louis is wailing actually prolongs his release, it’s possibly the hottest sound Harry has *ever* heard.   
When he’s finally spent and Louis has stopped shooting all the way up his neck, Harry’s arms give out as he pulls out and he collapses on top of Louis who wraps his own arms around him, holds him close. Harry doesn’t even mind that they’re probably making a sticky mess right now, and should *probably* clean themselves up before cuddling, he just needs to feel Louis close.   
«Jesus christ.» Louis mutters, and laughs breathily against Harry’s neck. Then Harry is laughing too, because fuck if he’s not the luckiest boy in the universe. He turns his head to capture Louis’ lips stretched around a smile, and they nip lightly on eachothers lips, still grinning like crazy. Harry offers to leap into the bathroom to fetch a washcloth – Louis’s quite positive he can’t walk – and gently cleans Louis off, then himself.   
They wrap up in eachother, whispering private things and promises into eachothers air, eventually drifting to sleep against eachothers lips, kissing until they physically can’t stay awake any longer.


End file.
